We don't really know one another. This poem is for my brother, Josh, who lost his battle with depression and killed himself.

————

I thought us close

but couldn’t see

how dim your world,

how empty.

Dark glasses hid

the anguish in your eyes.

Melancholy dragged you

under hopelessness.

You didn’t fight,

you sank into the slime.

The carpet doesn’t muffle

your lamenting

that slips between the

floorboard seams at night.

You weren’t my brother,

you were some sad stranger.

You were a shadow

fleeing from the bright.

By Nolcha Fox

From: United States

Website: https://bit.ly/3bT9tYu

Twitter: NolchaF

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/